His Accent
by mawwaw
Summary: Drabble. Klaus/Caroline. Set after events of 3x21.


**Disclaimer: **I don't own The Vampire Diaries. If I did Klaus wouldn't be desiccated/dead or whatever you want to call it.

**Authors Note: **Over here in the UK, I have to wait till Friday morning to watch the latest episode, so fanfiction is a godsend lol.

Set after later.

**His Accent.**

The weather was bad.  
Actually, bad wasn't the word. It was downright miserable and depressing. It had rained practically non stop since they had landed the night before, and because of it she'd been unable to sleep for more than an hour at a time.  
Realistically, sleep was an unnecessary commodity, but even after all these years she held on tightly to human practises, clinging to what had made her human.

Beside her, he lay silently and if it wasn't for the occasional twitch, you would think he lay dead. In the past, this had scared her immensely, unlike her who kept up human pretences; he considered himself far superior and gave little importance to such acts.  
She couldn't help it though, after everything she had gone through to get him back, to have him a part of her life, the thought of having to face the world without him shook her to her very core.

Over the years they'd both accumulated enemies and while his claims of indestructibility soothed her at times, it was impossible for the fear to disappear completely, knowing she would forever be perceived as his greatest weakness.

She took a minute to admire him, something she did often but hardly when he was conscious. He was fully aware of his beauty, his charms, never failing to awe her with how confident he was.  
Despite his assurances that she was beautiful, there were times when she felt inadequate.  
He joked it was what had replaced her time of the month, but deep down it angered him. The humanity she clung to was to be blamed for her insecurity and she knew he'd love nothing more for her to let go of that side of her.

It was hard to feel beautiful, standing next to him with his perfect lithe body, eyes so blue you felt you could drown in and that cheeky smile.

Those dimples would be the death of her. It didn't matter what he did, whatever wrong he'd committed, when he looked at her with that smile, that mischievous smile, with that sparkle in those eyes, she couldn't help but imagine him as a human boy getting caught doing something naughty and cheekily trying to get out of whatever punishment he was due.

It also didn't help when there were beautiful women, and in a city like Paris there were plenty, ogling him, even as she stood next to him, territorially placing her hand on his chest.

His back was bare, the muscles beneath the pale skin strong, faded scars marring the otherwise smooth skin. The thin sheet he'd been using as a blanket, though there was no need for it, had pooled around his waist, tangling between his legs.

She smiled to herself.  
'Who would have thought The Big Bad would be a bed hog?'

Almost as though he could feel his eyes on her as he slept, the hand that had been closest to her began to inch towards her, and when all he could grasp were empty sheets, he turned towards her side, eyes instantly alert.

She felt, more than heard, his sigh of relief.  
"Caroline?"  
She heard the silent question attached to her name.

It shocked her to no end, how well she'd gotten to know him. How well she could read his moods and know with a single look whether he needed her to fill his thoughts with her incessant ramblings or if he simply needed her to take him into her arms and provide the comfort he wanted only from her.

The corners of her lips turned up slightly, an answer to his inaudible question, reassuring him that yes she was here and she was, in the loosest sense of the word, okay.

"Morning," she said softly.

The rain had slowed down to a gentle spit, though the clouds remained grey and gloomy, casting a dark shadow over the room.

The difference between Paris and the city they were now in were vast. There, they had risen to sunshine streaming in through the windows, a balcony overlooking the river Seine.

She knew this city held a lot of memories for him, the smile of contentment on his face, as they had been driven from the airport to this apartment, had been a giveaway.

She just wished they could have had better weather.

"It'll clear up, you know," he drawled in that sexy accent of his.

She wasn't sure if it was her, or if his accent actually had become more pronounced since landing in his hometown.

"Well, it's not exactly a good start to the day," she commented, petulance sneaking into her voice.

He grinned.

'Unbelievable!'

She could hardly believe he had the audacity to grin at her sour mood.

"Caroline, this city doesn't come to a standstill when it rains. It'll clear up soon."

Folding her arms, she kept her distance, pointedly turning her face away.

She heard him chuckle, but resisted the urge to look at him, to see his melting smile and to lose herself in his eyes, as she knew she would succumb to.

"Come back to bed, love."

On second thought, it wasn't his smile that would be the death of her. It would be his accent. That sexy, cultured drawl of his would bring her to her knees each and every time.

**Authors Note: **I wasn't sure where I was going with this but I hope you liked it!

Leave a review to let me know! Thank you :D


End file.
